All Grown Up
by vikki1818
Summary: After graduating college, Katniss goes on vacation with her parents and her dad's old friend, Mr. Mellark. Peeta, as he tells her to call him, has a very different effect on her now than she remembers as a child. A story of forbidden desire. Warning: Significant Age Gap. Written for Prompts in Panem, Day 3-Fantasy.
1. Chapter 1

Amazing thanks to my awesome Beta, Court81981. This story would be rushed and awkward without your help!

* * *

"I'm so proud of you Katniss. I knew you could do it." My father's voice breaks a little as he pulls me in for a hug.

I roll my eyes, but hug him back. "Come on Dad, we already went through this at graduation, and when we were packing up my room, and again on the drive out here to the cabin. Have you gotten it out of your system yet?"

He pulls away and grabs a pillow from the backseat. "Come on, it's not everyday that my oldest daughter graduates college and gets a fancy job working at the Capitol Parks Department!"

"I'm going to be a City Government worker, Dad, trust me it isn't fancy. Plus, we've got a whole week vacationing here at the cabin to be sappy before I have to start real life." I open the trunk up and pull out a bag. "Where did Mom disappear to?"

"I think she is airing the house out. I wish your sister was here!" Dad walks over to the side of the house to gaze at the view of the lake behind our cabin.

"Yeah, but she has band camp this week. Plus I'm sure Prim is more excited about playing Spin the Bottle with the boys at camp than going canoeing with us," I smirk.

"What?" My father turns around quickly, looking alarmed.

"Nothing!" I laugh, and head into the cabin.

I enter the side door of the kitchen to the sound of tools working under the sink. "Hello?" I call.

I notice a man in a tight pair of jeans with his head bent under the sink. A flush fills my cheeks as I notice how nicely his ass fills out the jeans. His shirt has ridden up his back, exposing a three-inch strip of bare skin and an obviously very toned mid-section. His back muscles ripple slightly as he pulls his head out from under the sink and turns around to look at me.

"Katniss?" the man asks, his voice unsure.

I blink as I take in his curly blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. "Mr. Mellark?"

He smiles, and his whole face lights up. "You're 22, I think you can call me Peeta now."

I flush slightly and smile. Mr. Mellark—Peeta—is an old friend of my father's. I forgot that he owns and rents this cabin and the one next door as well. We used to go on vacation next door to each other for a few weeks every summer growing up. "What are you doing here?" I ask.

"When your dad booked your cabin last month he mentioned I should join this year, so I took the week off work. I wasn't sure I could make it, so I didn't want to say anything to your dad until I knew for sure." He sets his wrench down in the sink.

"Where's Mrs. Mel—I mean… your wife?" I stutter painfully, realizing I don't remember his wife's name.

"Clove and I divorced a few years ago," he says.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I feel awkward, but am not very upset to hear this. Prim and I always secretly called her the Wicked Witch of Panem when we were growing up.

"It was for the best," he says simply and wipes his hands on a towel. "Well, give me a hug! It's been too long!"

He pulls me into a warm embrace, and I try not to think about how I had just been checking out his ass a few moments before. With his warm, broad chest pressed against mine, I don't succeed.

"How long has it been?" he asks as we pull away.

"Like eight or nine years?" I guess. "I was in braces the last time you saw me!" I inwardly cringe, remembering those awkward early teenage years.

"Well, you're certainly all grown up now." I don't think he means for this to come out as suggestive, but his voice catches roughly at the end of his statement that causes a bolt of fire to land between my thighs. Both of our cheeks flush, and an awkward pause follows as we stare at each other.

The silence is broken as my father's excited voice rings through the kitchen. "Peeta Mellark! It is about time you finally dragged your sorry ass along on another one of our family trips!"

They embrace in a classic man-hug, slapping each other hard on the back. "What are you doing?" my dad asks with a laugh as they pull away.

"The sink wasn't draining right, so I thought I'd fix it up for you before you got here and tried doing it yourself. I didn't want a repeat of the Air Conditioning Incident of 2002." Peeta laughs.

"Hey! That unit was from the 1970s; it was on its last breath anyway!" my dad protests with a laugh.

I decide to make an exit before I stare at Peeta in his jeans any longer. "I'm going to take a quick swim before dinner," I say.

"Alright, I'm going to finish unloading the car." My dad heads back outside as I pick my bag up and head up towards the stairs.

"Great to see you, Katniss!" Peeta calls.

I pause and look back at him. "Looking forward to catching up… Peeta." I linger for a moment as he smiles at me before I hastily make my way up to my room. I shut the door quickly and collapse on my bed, breathing heavily.

Peeta must be in his upper thirties now. Since my parents had me when they were still teenagers, they are both only 40 now. I know Peeta is a couple years younger than my parents, but am not quite sure how old he is exactly. Either way, I should not still be turned on at the sight of his ass or the feel of his broad chest against mine. He is my father's childhood friend!

I grab a pillow and smother my face with it. I take the opportunity to yell into the pillow and feel moderately better. Knowing I desperately need to cool down, I grab my bathing suit from my bag. I need to get a grip.

* * *

Peeta comes over for dinner that night. It goes without incident, except for when he drops an entire basket of rolls the moment I walk downstairs. I am only wearing a thin tank top and can swear I feel his eyes flit back and forth from my chest for most of the meal.

He quickly excuses himself after dinner, stopping first to make plans with Dad to go hiking with us the next day. After helping Mom clean the kitchen, I lie on my bed and attempt not to think about the feel of Peeta's hand on mine. He had passed me the water pitcher during dinner and his rough touch caused tingles to travel up my arm.

I remember the last long vacation we spent with Peeta and his ex-wife. Peeta and I went for a canoe ride around the lake every morning before breakfast as the sun was rising. He and I were both early risers, and I enjoyed learning how to canoe with him. We would paddle to the islands in the middle of the lake sometimes so we could find cliffs to jump off together.

I always thought Mr. Mellark—Peeta—was handsome when I was a teenager. But now as an adult, I can admit that he is…hot. Just being around him makes my body feel like it is finally awake. I feel hyperaware, as if there were steady hum of nervous energy pulsing through me. As I lie on the bed, my hand lying across my stomach, I suddenly imagine it is Peeta's hand on my stomach. I wonder how it might feel if he were to drag it up my stomach and cup my breast. I pop up quickly out of bed, heart thudding. I will not masturbate while imagining my dad's friend. He is old enough to be my father.

I quietly move downstairs and grab an open bottle of red wine leftover from dinner and a glass. I hear the quiet noise of the TV from my parents' room down the hall. Quietly, I slide the glass door open and head over to the dock. I slip my feet down into the water and pour myself a generous glass of wine.

I sit for a half an hour, enjoying the sound of the water lapping against the dock and the crickets on the bank. The wine gives me a pleasant, relaxing buzz as I look up at the full moon and stars. Just as I am about to refill my glass, I hear loud footsteps walking up the pier behind me. I glance in their direction and see Peeta walking up the pier, barefoot.

"I feel like I should scold you for drinking wine, but I forget you are over 21 now." He smiles and sits down on the dock a few feet from me.

"Like you said earlier, I'm all grown up now." The wine is making me bolder, because my voice comes out more like a purr. He stares at me intensely as I take a slow sip of my wine. I see his strong jaw move as his mouth opens and closes again. "Want some?" I hold the bottle out to him.

He holds up a bottle of beer in his right hand, which I didn't notice he was holding until now. "I'm good."

We sit in companionable silence for a little while. "Your dad told me that you got a job working in the Capitol?" he questions.

"Yeah, working for the Parks Department."

"You can always give me a call if you need good restaurant recommendations," Peeta says, taking a sip of his beer. "I moved downtown after the divorce to be closer to the bakery."

Peeta's father passed away suddenly from a heart attack the fall after the last summer that we spent our vacation with Peeta and his wife. I remembered the funeral, and hearing from my father that Peeta was going to take over the bakery.

I nod. "I just found an apartment with my friend Johanna on 7th near the park."

"That's a good area. I'm a couple blocks away on 5th."

"We should grab a beer together sometime." I take another sip of wine and raise an eyebrow at him. The wine pulsing through my veins is making me reckless.

He runs a nervous hand through his blonde curls, which seem to shine in the moonlight. I notice that his curls, which had been so unruly when he was younger, seemed to have tamed a bit with age. "Uh, sure." His voice sounds strangled.

"Is the bakery why you weren't able to come on vacation with our family anymore? I noticed that you stopped coming with us after you took over."

"Yeah, it was the first year or two. Clove didn't really like coming out here, so…" he trails off.

There is a pause. "You two never really seemed like you fit together."

He considers me for a moment before answering. "Yeah, she was a girly girl. Never really liked being out on the water out in nature like me. There were a lot of reasons for the divorce though."

I nod. A breeze comes through, leaving a trail of goose bumps across my arms. I pull my legs out of the lake and wrap my arms around myself. I am still wearing the tank top and am embarrassed to notice that my nipples are standing at full attention in the cold. I wonder if he noticed.

"Here, take my sweatshirt." I look over to see that Peeta has already taken his sweatshirt off and is handing it to me.

"Are you sure?" I question.

"Yeah, actually I should probably go in anyway" He moves to stand up.

"Thank you." I shrug his warm sweatshirt on and try my best not to take a deep inhale of his sweet yet woodsy scent. "Actually, I might head in, too."

"Here." He holds his hand out for me and I grab it. His warm, large hand envelops mine as he easily lifts me to my feet. Once I am standing straight up, I realize that we are only about a foot away from each other and my stomach leaps in anticipation.

"We on for our regular sunrise canoe trip tomorrow morning?" he smiles, his white teeth shining against the moon.

I can only nod, as my voice seems to have stopped functioning for the moment.

"Alright. Well…goodnight, Katniss." Before I know it he has disappeared, and I am left alone on the pier.

I clean up the wine bottle and glass and head upstairs to bed. With the pleasant buzz humming through my veins, I struggle to keep my mind off of Peeta. I can't remember the last time I felt so immediately attracted to a man. I have only dated one guy seriously in my life, my college sweetheart Gale, and it was more about friendship than attraction.

I finish brushing my teeth and head to my bedroom. Just as I'm about to pull my top off, I realize that my blinds are still open. I cross over to the window to close them but stop when I realize I can clearly see into a second-floor bedroom in Peeta's cabin next door. I freeze when Peeta walks by the open window, shirtless and brushing his teeth.

My mouth drops open as I take in his naked, broad chest. He has a large tattoo on his ribs, however from this distance, I can't tell what it is. I can see the muscles in his stocky arms ripple as he brushes his teeth. His light-blonde chest hair is thick and full. It feels so wrong to be watching him like this, but I feel rooted to the spot and can't tear my eyes away.

I note how low his shorts are hanging on his hips. I can see clearly defined muscles leading down to his—

I jump back as he suddenly looks up and sees me staring at him through the window. He waves and I have nothing to do but awkwardly wave back and slam my curtains shut quickly.

I dive under my blankets and hide under them quickly, not believing that just happened. I want to sink down into the mattress and hide forever. It takes me a good fifteen minutes of breathing exercises to finally calm down. He had no idea I was checking him out. For all he knows, I was just waving goodnight.

I can't stop picturing his body in my mind. His thick chest hair and tight muscles. I imagine what he would have done if I would've taken my shirt off so he could see me play with my breasts through the window, if I would have softly teased my nipples with my fingers. I imagine him biting his lip and a tent forming in his shorts. Maybe he would have waved me over to his house. I would have thrown my shirt back on quickly and silently made my way next door.

I would quietly join him in his bed and he would look at me like he wasn't sure if I was real or not. In response I would lift my tank top up over my head and he wouldn't be able to help slamming his lips onto mine.

Finally giving into the temptation to touch myself, I softly moan as I reach up to drag my thumbs across both of my nipples. I imagine Peeta's thick hands rubbing back and forth across my peaks until I moan his name loudly. I imagine his tongue caressing my own as one of his hands slowly drifts down my body and under my panties.

I moan again as I reach my center and realize just how wet I am. "Peeta…" I whisper in relief as I drag two of my fingers down through my seeping folds.

It is so wrong to picture my father's friend this way, but I can't stop. I would pull his body on top of mine, unable to handle him being so far away from me. I would grind myself against his thick erection as he gasps my name over and over. He would hastily pull my panties down my toned thighs and I would take the opportunity to flip him over on his back. I would pull his shorts down his legs and gasp in appreciation as his erection sprang free.

I would climb over his body, take his erection in my hand and slowly drag it through my seeping folds as he gasps in pleasure. "Katniss, we can't do this. It's… It's wrong," he would say through his moans.

But I wouldn't listen and would sink halfway down his hard length with a loud gasp. "Are you sure?" I would say, my breasts swaying as I make an effort to hold myself still.

I pick up speed as I continue to finger myself under my blanket. I start to rub my clit in earnest as I feel the tingling sensation start to build from deep in my stomach.

He would shake his head, saying that he wasn't sure, and would flip me over on my back as he fully sheaths himself inside of me. Once there, he would pause and we would both take a moment to enjoy the sensation. He would start slow, almost teasing me while still slowly dragging his thumbs across my nipples. I would try to go faster, but he would hold onto my hips until I'm begging him for more. Then without warning he would drive into me hard, his muscles rippling as he thrusts into me over and over.

I imagine his deep voice as he whispers my name against my skin. It would be tense with the effort of holding back his orgasm. I would tell him how amazing he feels. He would drag his hands from my nipples down to massage my clit while continuing to drive into me.

My orgasm, which built up like a wave, washes over me in sweet relief. My back arches high off the bed and my toes curl with the sensation of it. As the waves of pleasure continue to roll over me, I sigh further into the bed. That was the best orgasm I've had in a very, very long time.

I know it is wrong, but I reach over and grab Peeta's sweatshirt and pull it over my head. I sigh deeper as his scent envelopes me and I start to nod off.

It is going to be a very, very long week.

* * *

A/N: Very excited about my first WIP in forever. I have already written most of this story so updates should happen fairly frequently. I hope you all enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning with a start. As my fantasy from the night before comes back to me, I groan. Sighing, I put on my bathing suit, shorts, and a tank top and head down to the pier. The sunrise has a purple glow on its edges and stops me in my tracks for a moment. I take a deep breath and smile as the fresh mountain air fills my lungs.

"You ready?" I glance up to blue eyes and a wide smile. Peeta has already loaded the canoe for us and is waiting expectantly at the end of the pier. He is wearing a pair of trunks and a tank top, which shows off his well-defined arms.

I smile shyly at him and walk towards my usual spot in the front of the canoe. When he taught me to canoe well over ten years ago, he always took the power position in the back while I would steer up front. "Sorry I'm late," I say as he offers his hand to help me down into my spot.

My stomach jumps as his warm hand envelops mine and helps to guide me easily down into the boat. "No problem. I probably kept you up too late last night."

His statement causes my face to flush bright. If he only knew why he kept me up last night…

We set off towards the middle of the lake and fall into an easy rhythm. I smile as the canoe slices through the calm lake. I enjoy the feeling of the worn wooden paddle in my hands and the early morning air rushing against my face. We paddle for almost forty-five minutes before we make it to one of our favorite islands.

"You up for it?" Peeta calls from behind.

I look back at him and smirk. "What do you think?" He laughs as I begin to steer us towards the small beach.

I jump out and help guide the boat smoothly onto the sand. Peeta drops his paddle into the bottom of the canoe and jumps out into the water. I glance up to the cliff on the south side of the island. I hesitate, but know that we'll be swimming soon, so I reach down and slowly pull my tank top over my head. I'm left in just a pair of board shorts, sandals, and my bikini top.

When I glance up I notice that Peeta's eyes are trained on my tattoo. I trace the ink up my side with my finger and say softly, "It's a mockingjay."

He clears his throat and looks back up at me. I notice he looks more flushed than he did earlier. I look back down at my tattoo, a flaming mockingjay, starting around my bra line, curving down my ribs and ending down at my hip. "I got it a few months ago. My dad wasn't crazy about it, but I had been dreaming of it since I graduated high school."

"It's gorgeous." His voice is rough, and I notice his hand closest to me twitches. He suddenly clears his throat and pulls his tank top off as well. I notice the tattoo on his ribs and take a step closer to look.

In the center are two large hands holding two little baby feet. The writing below says, "July 7th, 2006. Annie."

"Clove and I had a baby. Her name was Anne. I…I called her Annie." Peeta's voice breaks through my thoughts. I stare up at him in shock. "She… she came too early though. She didn't make it."

"Oh Peeta." My voice is choked. "You would have been an amazing father." I feel my eyes water. I can only imagine how painful it must be to lose a child.

"Clove never wanted to have kids. Annie, she was an accident. I just loved her so much, even though I could only have her for a day." He is silent for a long moment. I reach my hand out and grasp onto his hand tightly. "After that I knew I needed children in my life, but Clove still didn't. That was really why we called it quits in the end." I nod.

"I wanted to keep her close," he adds simply, running his fingers over the ink. He gives me a half smile and says, "You ready?"

I nod and squeeze his hand one last time before letting go. We head into the trees and up a path that is much more worn than it was eight years ago. It weaves up and around the cliff, and I find myself sweating from the exertion and quickly warming summer air. We climb straight up the hill for a few minutes before reaching the edge of the cliff.

"This is much higher than I remember it being." Peeta says, his voice shaking slightly.

"I don't remember you having a fear of heights." I smile; my voice holds a teasing edge to it.

"Maybe you never noticed." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Maybe not," I say with an edge of flirtation to my voice. I hold my hand out, "Here." He smiles warmly at me and grasps my hand. His smile and heat me deep down in my stomach. "The longer we wait, the worse it gets!" I call, jumping off the cliff and pulling him along with a hard yank of my hand.

His yell is deep and bellowing as we race towards the water. Together we slam into the lake and are quickly submerged in its depths. We separate on impact, and I pause to enjoy the feeling of the cool water around me before kicking my way up to the surface. I take a deep breath once I reach the warm air and look around for Peeta.

"Peeta?" I call and spin around. He is nowhere in sight. "Peeta?!" I call again, louder this time. I dive under the water and look for a long moment. The lake is fairly clean, but it is not very clear, so I can't see very far.

I come up and am about to yell for him again when I feel two strong arms wrap around my stomach from behind. "Gotcha!" I feel Peeta's deep voice through his chest, which my back is pressed firmly against. He grips me hard, causing me to lose my breath before he tosses me a couple feet away.

"Peeta!" I squeal as I hit the water with a splash.

As I come back up, sputtering, he calls, "That's what you get for pulling me off the cliff when I wasn't ready!"

"You do not want to start this war, Mellark," I warn him, treading water.

"Oh, I think I can take you," he says with an eyebrow raised.

I swim a little closer, and without warning I bring my arms up and down into the water, splashing him hard. He splashes me back, but I dive under and attempt to grab his arms under the water. He easily pulls me up, overpowers me, and pins my arms down to my sides. I struggle against him for a moment and get nowhere when he pulls me harder against him. It is now that I realize just how much of his bare skin is touching my own and it sends a thrill deep down to my core.

We both stop fighting at the same time. My nipples immediately harden as I register how good his broad chest feels against my breasts as I breathe in and out. His warm wet skin feels silky smooth under my hands. My breath catches as Peeta's eyes darken and he, almost imperceptibly, pulls me closer to his body. I notice several water droplets running down his chest and disappearing in the place where our bodies have melded together.

I look up into his eyes and lick my lips. He suddenly jerks away and the water feels cold against my skin where I had been pressed up against him. "Sorry," he says gruffly, diving under the water quickly and running his hands through his hair.

I gulp and take a deep breath. "We were just playing around." I keep my voice light and dive under the water and swim back towards the beach.

I take a moment to compose my thoughts. Peeta and I were always roughhousing and getting into tickle fights when I was a child. But now being so close to him has a completely different effect on me. My body is thrumming again, and I know that no amount of touching myself will satisfy the hunger he's created.

I make it up to the beach and settle myself up on the sand near the canoe to wait for Peeta. I know that he felt the chemistry between us. I remember, with a thrill, feeling his hardness against the inside of my thigh before he pulled away. I bite my lip and groan. I need to calm down before he gets back.

I avert my eyes once he comes up out of the water. If I see his tight, muscular body again my hunger will only get worse. I make designs in the sand with my finger as I hear him move over the canoe and then settle down next to me.

He places a paper bag down in front of me, and I give him a small hopeful smile before opening the bag. My grin widens as I take in the cheese bun inside. "I made them yesterday before you all showed up. I know they are better hot, but I thought you might still appreciate it."

I smile over at him and take a huge bite. He chuckles as I groan loudly in appreciation. "These are even better than I remember," I say, before taking another bite.

He starts to eat, and we sit in companionable silence on the beach together for a few minutes. The day has warmed considerably, and the lake has become much more choppy in the last hour. I know that it'll be a much more challenging ride back, but am looking forward to working out some of this frustration I am feeling.

We both stare out at the lake for while, watching the small waves lap up on the shore of the beach. "You ready?" Peeta says, standing up and holding his hand out to me. I nod and he pulls me to my feet.

We make good time on the canoe ride back and have both worked up a sweat by the time we reach the house. As Peeta and I are walking up the dock, I give into the urge to wrap my arms around his midsection and pull both of us back into the water. We both come up sputtering and laughing. He dunks me, and I tickle his feet underwater before coming back up. We spend another ten minutes playing around in the water. It feels good to cool off after the warm canoe ride. Luckily, or unluckily, we end up keeping our distance from touching each other too much, even though I am dying to wrap my arms around him like earlier.

When we finally get out, we are both happy but spent from a long morning in the water together.

"You two look like you had a fun morning!" Dad calls from the porch as we make our way up to the house.

"I really missed this place," Peeta says as he pulls his shirt up over his head. I do the same, suddenly aware of how much skin I am showing. Seeing my dad after having so many inappropriate thoughts about Peeta is making me feel guilty.

"I'm glad you came, Peeta. It's been too long. Plus, I needed someone who can keep up with Katniss. She is always critiquing my canoeing skills against yours." Peeta laughs, as I duck my head in embarrassment. "You guys up for a hike with us?" Dad questions.

"Let's do it." I say, grateful for a chance to re-adjust these insanely dirty mental images about Peeta.

* * *

I thought that a hike with my parents would help me calm down. I thought a hike with my parents would help keep these incredibly inappropriate thoughts about Peeta at bay. I was wrong.

As we were driving to the trailhead, my dad decided to use the time to catch up with his old friend. I found out that Peeta is a dedicated rock climber, and spends every Monday (when the bakery is closed) scaling rock faces within an hour's drive of the Capitol. I groan at this news, trying hard not to imagine his thick, muscular arms as he climbs. It makes sense why his hands are so rough, both from working at the bakery and climbing. I try my best not to remember how good his hands felt on my stomach when we were playing in the water this morning.

Dad, unknowingly, exclaimed that Peeta and I should go climbing together sometime. As my face burned, Peeta just glanced at me shyly and asked if I climbed too. I explained how I taught kids at the rec center near my college how to climb up the indoor climbing walls, but real life was obviously much different.

"I could show you sometime," was all he said. Imagining Peeta getting up close and personal as he showed me how to climb up rock faces kept my panties wet for the rest of the drive.

Then, on the trail head, Dad also grilled Peeta on his other hobbies, which happen to include volunteering at a local after school program for underprivileged kids (of course he does). He teaches them art and baking classes after the morning rush at the bakery and before closing up shop for the night. Because this man, apparently, feels the need to be absolutely fucking perfect in every way.

I couldn't help but watch his broad back and perfect ass as we walked. The afternoon warmed up quickly and his fitted gray shirt started showing some trails of sweat down his back. I would have never thought that sweat could be sexy until now.

Now, as we are reaching the top of the mountain, my dad has decided that I haven't had enough torture just yet.

"Peeta, how's your love life been lately? Are you still dating that girl, um, Sabrina was her name?" I walk a little faster ahead of them and pretend that I'm not listening.

"No, I'm single," Peeta says simply. I am embarrassed to realize how relieved I am.

"I could set you up, we know a couple of newly-divorced women near you, what was that one florist's name again, Nadine?" My dad questions my mom.

"Eleanor, but she is too old for Peeta," My mom chides. "She is almost 50, and Peeta is… how old are you Peeta?"

"Um, I just turned 39 in April" he says.

"Ten years isn't that big of a difference!" Dad exclaims. I snort, wondering how he would feel about a seventeen-year age difference…

"Peeta is too good looking; he should be with someone who is more youthful than Eleanor." Mom says.

Dad is silent for a long moment. "What kind of woman are you looking for? I seem to remember that you are really into brunettes with dark eyes."

My heart jumps a little in my chest, and Peeta stammers, "Um, no, not…not really."

"What are you talking about?" Dad questions as he steps over a fallen log on the path. "Clove had a dark complexion. So did your last girlfriend. And I seem to remember you having a crush on my older sister when we were growing up."

I glance back shyly and notice that Peeta's neck grows red, "That was only for a week, tops. And I was sixteen at the time."

"Yeah, it only lasted until you realized she had a girlfriend. I didn't have the heart to tell you she was gay at the time." Dad laughs. "It's too bad though, it would have been nice to have you in the family." He slaps Peeta's back. I wonder what Dad would think if Peeta were to join the family, but as his son-in-law instead of his brother. I stop suddenly in the path as I realize just where my mind has gone. How did I get from a simple crush to marriage? What the hell is wrong with me?

Unfortunately my sudden stop has surprised Peeta, who walks right behind me. "Woah," he gasps, and I feel strong hands grasp my hips as he tries to stop himself from falling. I whimper as I feel one of his fingers trail against the sensitive strip of skin between my jeans and tank top.

"Sorry," I breathe, my voice sounding strangled.

He drops his hands like he's been burned and only catches my eye for a moment before he keeps walking past me. "No problem…"

Luckily we reach the top of the mountain, and Dad quits his questions, giving both Peeta and me a break. We stop to enjoy the view and eat a snack before taking a slow stroll back down. Peeta and Dad continue catching up on the way back down, while Mom and I enjoy each others silence.

We stop at a small pub near the house on the way home to grab some dinner and where Peeta, Dad, and I argue about our favorite college basketball teams.

"Can I get you all another round?" the waitress asks as we are finishing up dinner.

"I'll get another IPA," I volunteer, taking the last sip of my drink.

"Oh, I'm exhausted, I think I might be done for the night," Mom says.

"Oh, well never mind—" I start to say.

"No! No! It is only a few minutes' walk; you should all stay if you want. I insist!" Mom argues.

I glance over at Dad and Peeta. "What about you guys?"

Peeta nods. "I could do another."

"I think I'll head back with your mom. Since you all are going to have another drink, I'll take the car back and let you both walk," Dad says.

My stomach does a somersault at the idea of staying here alone with Peeta for the evening. I glance over at him and raise an eyebrow. He grins and orders himself another drink.

"I'm glad you're staying out," I say casually after Mom and Dad leave and the waitress brings our beers.

"I'm glad to see you're a real beer drinker. Most women I know only do the sweet, frozen drinks or those terrible light beers." He grins and I stare, transfixed by his dimples for a moment.

I notice he is waiting for me to respond, and I grin back, "Yeah, well, I am my father's daughter. He was one of those parents who started letting me drink before I was 21, as long as I did it responsibly. It helped me to acquire a more defined palate than the rest of my girlfriends in college."

He nods. "I always knew he'd be a great dad."

"You don't have to tell me how lucky I am." I smile and we both take a drink. I love my dad, but I'm itching for a change in subject. I gesture over towards a dart board near our table, "You down for it?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Bring it on, Everdeen."

I laugh and go grab some darts from the bar. "Winner pays the tab?" I ask when I get back.

"Sure." We grab our things and head over to the dartboard. "So, besides having excellent taste in beer, and your studies obviously, what else did you do in college?" Peeta asks.

He takes a few practice shots while I take my windbreaker off. "Hmm...I played ultimate Frisbee a lot."

He laughs. "That explains why you barely worked up a sweat today."

"And like I said earlier, I worked at a local rec center." He nods as I take the darts from his hands and set myself up for the shot. "I also made some extra money at a local bar."

"Doing what?" he asks.

I hit a single-20, a triple-20 and a bulls-eye. "Taking bets playing darts." I smirk at him as his jaw drops.

"Katniss Everdeen!" he exclaims, "Are you hustling me?"

I take my time grabbing the darts and making my way back to him. He holds his hand out for the darts, and I take another step closer to him as I place them firmly in his hand. I lean closely into his side and whisper seductively, "Maybe."

He exhales, and I can feel his breath whisper against my lips. I inhale sharply and see his throat flexing as he stares at me. His scent is intoxicating and I have to fight to keep myself from closing the distance between our lips.

"I always thought you were so innocent," he whispers.

I shake my head slowly at him. "Not anymore."

He stares at me for a long moment. "Well, like I said before," he says, biting his plump bottom lip. It is all I can do to keep from groaning at his action. "Bring. It. On."

* * *

I, of course, kill him at darts. He suffers through a couple games before I offer to play a few games of foosball, which he wins, two out of three. After a few beers we decide to head out.

I am ridiculously hopeful and buzzed the entire way home, wondering if he is going to invite me into his cabin. I know it is wrong, but I want him so badly that my drunk mind doesn't care anymore. I just want him and after all of the flirting and closeness all night, I know he wants me too.

"Sorry I hustled you," I say with a laugh as we are walking.

"It's alright. You have some serious aim skills." He grins and I can feel my insides melt a little more. "Plus, it's not everyday I get a chance to buy a pretty girl a drink."

My stomach jumps again, and I feel my skin warming up. "So," I say as we make our way up the path to the cabins, "want to watch a movie? Or some Netflix or something?"

I glance over at him hopefully. He is rubbing his neck and looking uncomfortable.

"We could watch some old school _Saturday Night Live_ on my computer," I suggest, wincing slightly at the earnestness in my voice.

He steps away from me and takes another deep breath. "Um…." he pauses for a long moment, "No, I think I'm going to head to bed."

Ice-cold rejection floods my veins, and all I can choke out is, "Oh."

His eyes are sad and we are quiet for a moment. "See you in the morning?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah." I gulp down my embarrassment and look away from him. "I'll see you then."

After making sure the curtains are firmly closed, I collapse down on the bed with a groan. I still want him, even though he is obviously trying to fight it. I felt his excitement against me in the water today. He must be attracted to me but is afraid. I'm not sure if he is more afraid of our age difference or my father.

The more I think about it, the more my embarrassment transitions over to determination. Peeta is trying resist our attraction, but I am not going to make it easy for him. He has no idea how stubborn I can be.


	3. Chapter 3

_As always, a million thanks goes out to the hardest working beta I know, Court. _

_And another million thanks to all the awesome reviewers and anon's who have kept me honest through my writing funk these past couple months. I'll be out of town the next few weeks with no internet (I know, crazy!), but plan on having regular updates on this starting in October. Come check me out on tumblr, I'm everlarkanxiety_

* * *

"Katniss?" My mind is foggy and I struggle to open my eyes. "Katniss?" I hear Peeta's voice to my right, and a warm hand caresses my shoulder. This, his hand, finally does the trick to wake me up.

I open my eyes and see the hammock around me from the porch, where I must have passed out after breakfast this morning. Peeta is crouching down next to me, looking slightly sleepy himself. His curls are flying this way and that, and I realize he must have taken a nap in the smaller hammock next to mine. His eyes are slightly puffy and I blush slightly when I realize how damn cute he is at that moment.

We woke up early again this morning and went for a grueling six-mile canoe ride around the entire perimeter of the lake. We paddled as fast as we could and I wondered if we both needed to let out a bit of frustration after the last few days of tension. We took a quick dip off the pier when we got back, but kept our distance from each other. I was still embarrassed from the night before and could only guess what was going on in his mind.

I blink up sleepily at him and smile. "Good morning," I say, stretching my arms above my head. The action causes my shirt to ride up my stomach and feel a stab of want when I see his eyes travel down to catch the reveal.

After a second, he stands up and coughs to clear his throat. "Um, it looks like your parents went for a hike."

He hands me a note, which was lying on the small table next to me: "Katniss, you and Peeta looked pretty tired, so we decided to head out on the hike for some alone time together. We'll be home around lunch. Love, Mom and Dad."

I grab my phone. "Wow, it's almost noon."

"I've got ingredients for homemade pizza back at my place if you're interested."

"Um, is that even a question? I'm always in when pizza is involved."

He smiles. "I can see that your appetite hasn't changed much since you were a teenager." Peeta laughs as he gets up, and we both head over to his cabin. His continued references to me being a teenager bother me.

He lets me in to his place and shows me to the kitchen. He grabs a bowl of fresh strawberries from the fridge and I dig into them while he pulls some flour out from the pantry. "This is serious pizza," I comment, biting into another strawberry. "I've never made pizza from scratch before."

"Oh, it's the only way," he says, turning the faucet on to warm some water. "Here, I'll let you do it and you'll see how easy it is."

"You do not want me to cook anything complicated, trust me."

"Well, it's a good thing that it isn't complicated and that I'm a good teacher," he says, crossing his arms in front of him.

I huff, remembering how stubborn he can be. "Fine, but don't blame me if it is bad."

He shows me how to prepare the yeast (he calls it 'proofing') by adding warm water and salt. We measure out the flour together, and after a few minutes, add it to the water with some olive oil.

"Alright, since we don't have a mixer, we'll need to knead this by hand." I only stare at him. "Dough isn't going to knead itself, Katniss," he says, smirking and gesturing towards the bowl.

I narrow my eyes at him, but I am hungry so I wash my hands and walk over to the bowl. "How exactly does one knead dough?"

He dusts the counter with some flour and dumps the contents of the bowl over on top of it. "You'll want to pour a little flour on top, because it is pretty sticky right now. Then start folding the dough on top of itself and press down with the heels of your hands." He works the dough as he talks, and I find myself mesmerized by his long fingers. His hands are so strong and confident. I imagine those same hands on my body and bite my lip with frustration.

"You ready?"

"Huh?" I look up, face burning, when I realize he caught me in my daydream. He just smiles and motions that I should take his place.

I step over to the workspace and awkwardly pick the dough up and attempt to fold it in half. He is standing directly behind me, and I am finding his proximity distracting. He smells like the herbs he puts in his cheese buns, a little sweaty, and something else distinctly manly that I can't place.

"You aren't folding it over with enough force; you really want to push down hard with the heel of your hand," he says, leaning over my shoulder.

I look over and him and realize just how close we are. Forgetting about my embarrassment earlier, and acting purely on instinct, I say, "Why don't you show me?" My voice comes out in a low whisper.

He starts to pick the dough up again. "Alright, I can—"

I interrupt him and place my hand over his to stop him from picking the dough up. "No, I don't want to watch you do it. I want you to show me how. That is the only way I can learn, right?" I pull his right arm around my body so that he is directly behind me. I grip him tightly so his front is flush against my back, with his arms around me as we both face the counter. He is only a few inches taller than I am, so I feel his breath hot against my neck.

"Okay," he chokes out. He brings his hands slowly down my arms. They leave a trail of flour and goose bumps behind them. I don't resist the urge to lean further into his touch.

He picks my hands up with his own and begins to guide me in folding and pressing the dough. "You'll want to get in a steady rhythm," he almost breathes into my neck. We do this for a few moments as I drink in his closeness.

After a minute, I start to realize that I feel something growing hard against my ass. It sends another thrill of excitement to my core, and I feel the space between my legs start to pulse. I gasp and fight the urge for only a moment before pressing back against him so I can feel him more fully.

He very quickly drops the dough and shies away from me. When I turn around, he is a few feet away, leaning back against the wall. "Why did you stop?" I question, aching for his touch again.

"You know why, Katniss," he growls, his face in his hands. I wonder if his face will be dusty from the flour.

I walk over to him and place my hands on his hips. He stills at my touch and I step in between his legs. I lay my chin on his shoulder and lean against his chest. "I don't want to stop," I whisper, glad that our attraction is finally out in the open. I feel his hard cock between my legs now and press my hips down deliberately against him. I whimper as I feel him grow harder and press, possibly involuntarily, against my aching core.

He moans and grasps onto my hips to stop me, but doesn't push me away. "It's wrong." He is breathing heavily and I feel more wetness spread into my bikini bottoms. My skin is on fire.

"Says who?" I ask.

"Your dad, for starters."

"Did he explicitly say that to you?"

"No, but I value my life enough not to try and find out," he says, still gripping my hips hard.

I press my aching breasts up against his chest and lean into his neck. "Tell me to stop then," I challenge.

"I… I can't do this to him," he gasps. I grind into him slowly again and he groans. The feeling of his cock against my aching clit is making my crazy.

"It feels like you are doing it to me, Peeta," I whisper into his ear, letting my breath tickle the sensitive skin there. I feel him shudder under me. I place a slow, chaste kiss on his neck and wait. He says nothing and I slowly trail my lips down an inch before kissing another spot, letting my lips linger a moment longer. Still nothing.

"Do you want me Peeta?" My voice comes out as a challenge, with a bit of defiance to it.

He doesn't respond, so I let my mouth part a bit and start to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses, one by one, down his neck. I'm panting and know that he can feel my breath against his pulse points on his throat.

"Jesus…" he groans. I feel his hands loosen their grasp on my hips and start to slowly travel up my back. His action pulls my tank top up, and I sigh in relief as his hands start caressing the bare skin of my lower back.

"Do you?" I ask again, even though now I am sure of the answer.

"You…" he gasps, "have no idea." His voice comes out as a pained whisper, as if he is still fighting a battle within. He must be losing that battle, because his hands become bolder as I continue to suck on his neck. I hope I leave a mark. He runs his hands further up and down until his thumbs sweep around my sides and near the underside of my bikini top. He does it again, and his rough fingers drag against the sensitive underside of my breasts.

I have made my way back up his neck and up to his ear. I take the opportunity to bite down on his earlobe and he growls, spinning me around and pressing my back hard against the wall. His lips slam into mine and I groan in appreciation. God…Finally.

He attacks my mouth, taking charge and wasting no time to caress my tongue with his. He tastes so damn good. His lips are firm but soft and I moan again when he traps my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles softly. His kisses leave me dizzy, and I wrap my legs around his waist so that he can take all of my weight. This also allows me to feel his cock more fully against my throbbing clit and I can't help grinding into him. I moan in appreciation as I feel his entire length against my needy core.

We stay fixed in this movement, exploring each other's mouths, while continuing to thrust our deprived hips together. He grasps harder against my ass as he drives into me and the sound of his husky moan makes me feel as if I will spontaneously combust in his arms.

Still holding me up with one arm, Peeta drags his other arm slowly up body and under my tank top. Just as his finger is diving under the material to cup my breast, I hear a door slam outside. I hear my Dad's voice and feel like I've been doused with a bucket of ice water.

"Shit, my parents!" I exclaim, and Peeta quickly drops me. I hastily pull my tank top down to cover myself up and Peeta tries to smooth his clothing and hair down. "I'll go out and say hello. Um, do I look alright?" I question nervously.

He looks at me with something indiscernible in his gaze. I hope to God that it isn't regret. "Yeah, I just need a second. I'll be right after you."

I look down and realize that he is still obviously rock-hard. Despite the situation, a deep pang of want shoots through me at the sight. What we did and the visual evidence of the fact that he wants me so much is burning me from the inside.

I want to kiss him again, but instead, I head outside and wave hello to my parents as they make their way up the walkway. "Hey guys, how was the hike?"

"Oh, it was wonderful!" Dad says with a smile. "What have you and Peeta been up to?"

My cheeks flood with warmth and I desperately try to hide my embarrassment. "Oh, just took a nap!" I exclaim, hoping they don't notice the tremor in my voice. "We were just making some pizza if you are interested!" Why do I continue to speak with exclamation points?

"Sounds good," Dad says. "I'll go clean up some first." He heads inside.

After he leaves, Mom looks at me, a little puzzled. "Are you alright Katniss? You look a little…flustered."

My heart jumps a little in my chest. "No! I mean…Yes, I'm alright!"

She gives me a small smile and somehow I feel like she knows. "Alright then. I'll see you in a bit." She squeezes my arm a bit before walking away.

I walk quickly back into Peeta's kitchen and see him bent over, his arms grasping the kitchen counter. He looks up as I enter and straightens up quickly before taking a very large step back.

I look at him apprehensively, hoping that he doesn't regret what just happened, but it is clear he does. "Peeta, we didn't do anything wrong," I whisper. "I like you. I don't care what our ages are."

His face screws up and I can tell he isn't sure what to do. "If I had a daughter and one of my friends—"

I cut him off, "This is different and you know it." He huffs. I take another step forward and he quickly steps back again. I scowl. "Can't you just see me as an old friend who you haven't seen in a long time…and are now insanely attracted to?"

He smiles slightly at this comment and bites his lip. I feel a prickle of want sweep through me at the movement, remembering when he bit my lip a few minutes before. He shakes his head again, "I just…give me some time to think about it. I have a hard time thinking rationally when I'm around you."

I smile at this. "Me too."

* * *

I keep my distance for the rest of the afternoon and evening, letting Peeta spend most of the time with my parents as they continue to catch up and reminisce about old times. I have to force myself not to stare at him too much, however it proves to be incredibly difficult—particularly with how worked up I had been earlier. I almost fake a headache a few times, thinking I will go back to my room and finish what we started earlier.

In the end I wait it out. I wait through lunch, as he seems determined to keep his gaze away from me. I smirk when he asks my dad if he wants to go for a canoe ride and try not to notice when they arrive back a couple hours later with no shirts on. Mom makes tacos for dinner and we all relax in front of the television to an old movie. I watch as Peeta says goodbye for the night, only giving me a quick, cursory glace.

A few minutes after he leaves I stand up as my parents are about to head to bed. "I'm going to go for a walk," I say.

"Be careful," Dad says with a yawn.

Mom eyes me warily. I feel a bit panicked at her glance and clam up a bit. "Have fun," is all she says. I gulp and again feel like she must know. She wouldn't say anything, would she?

"I'll be back soon," I say, but hope I won't be.

I step outside and take a few deep, calming breaths before making my way slowly to Peeta's cabin. I make it safely to his porch, and before I can second-guess myself, I let myself slowly into the front door without knocking. Here goes nothing.


End file.
